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'At least you know that Irene will always be there,' she said crisply, and wanted to retract the words the moment they were uttered.

'That is a situation I have set myself to cure,' he said adamantly. He implied that he did not need reminding, and as he stood there he had an overwhelming desire to put his hands on Emma's shoulders and shake her. He did not quite know why he was so annoyed at her refusing even to have lunch with him, when 'seeing a friend' could obviously have meant any time, or she would have announced immediately that she was already engaged for lunch.

Ruth studied them with dismay. She had heard a great deal about Emma and Irene Sinclair, but had not been prepared for this disharmony. It was out of character so far as Adam was concerned, and she wanted to make the peace.

'Anyway,' she said, 'I shall look forward to seeing you at King's Road and will give you a ring. . .I'm so glad to have met you.'

It was a subtle and final ending.

Emma hurried into Caley's, her heart thumping; an awareness that she had said the wrong thing bringing a miserable sense of injustice. Adam's words, 'That is a situation I have set myself to cure', stung. His persistence, just then, added to the wretchedness of Irene's condition about which, Emma told herself, nothing could be done.

She shopped without being aware of half her purchases and when it came to going to see Emily, she felt too dispirited to make the effort which would mean going over the past months and reliving much that she preferred to forget. She found herself saying, 'Damn Adam!' What was there about him that roused her to
such fury and made her feel as if a lump of lead had been dropped in her stomach and a fluttering bird in her heart?

She took longer over her shopping than was necessary, had a cup of coffee at Daniel's in Peascod Street, sitting staring into space as she reflected on life generally and her own in particular, and then set off for home. By this time she had told herself that she would never again allow Adam to annoy her. He was Irene's doctor and that was all there was to it. Anyway, she might not be seeing him for a little while and as for going to have a meal with him and Ruth. . .pleasant though she was, she would certainly not get mixed up with them. She managed to convince herself that Adam was merely a name that she would not allow to have any influence in her life.

But when she reached home, to her astonishment his car was parked outside the house. . .

Emma
realised that her returning home early would emphasise the fact to Adam that she had deliberately avoided having lunch with him and his sister. When she went into the sitting-room it was to hear him and Marion talking like old friends, Irene listening. The conversation stopped abruptly as she appeared and Irene cried joyfully, 'You're
back. . .
didn't you go to see Emily?'

Adam, watching Emma closely, saw a faint flush rise to her cheeks and his gaze held hers disconcertingly as he exclaimed, 'Emma is very elusive!'

He was aware of her unease as she replied, 'No, most likely she would be working.' She looked at Adam almost challengingly, 'I didn't realise you would be here.' The tone was uncompromising.

Was that, Adam asked himself, her tacit way of telling him that, had she known, she would have delayed her return? He ignored her words and said easily, 'Mrs Foster and I find that we have friends in common and she has met Judy Meyhew.'

He gave the latter statement, Emma thought, emphasis, as though anyone who knew Judy Meyhew was of special importance, and his use of the forename brought an intimacy.

Irene spoke up. 'Dr Meyhew seems to be very popular.'

Adam didn't hesitate.

'She is.' He said the words enthusiastically, adding warmly, 'I'm very lucky to have her.'

Emma noticed that he did not use the plural, as
would have been normal, she argued, since Dr Meyhew was also Dr Bryant's partner. It irritated her that she should even notice the fact.

Irene flashed Emma a meaning glance and Emma was reminded of Irene's challenge about her feelings for. Adam, much to her discomfort. Irene was sitting relaxed and smiling, her world intact because Emma was home early. She would not have to watch the clock and worry in case she might be late, which was a remote possibility.

Adam assessed this and felt that he must not be sidetracked from his plan of campaign as Irene's doctor. He said deliberately, looking from face to face, 'We must all get together at our home in King's Road. Ruth, my sister,' he added to Marion, 'would love it. . . Do you happen to know the Knights? Paul Knight would very much like to become my brother-in-law. He's an accountant, by the way.'

Marion exclaimed, 'And my father's accountant, strangely enough!' Her voice was light.

Emma felt a certain irritation. Adam's concentration upon Marion and his ease of manner emphasised her own isolation.
We must all get together. . .
That, of course, included Judy Meyhew!

Marion, aware that Emma's attitude was tense, enthused, saying, 'I would certainly like to meet your sister.' She waited for Emma's comment, but Emma remained silent. She could not rid her thoughts of Adam, aware of how impressive he looked, his well-cut light grey suit and white shirt emphasising his warm tan and adding to his sex appeal. She was intensely annoyed with herself for concentrating upon him, or even noticing him to such a physical degree.

Drama crept into the atmosphere as Adam turned to Irene and said deliberately and coaxingly, 'And how about your coming too, Irene?'

Irene caught at her breath and gave a little strangled cry.

'You're my doctor! You
know
I can't go out and that I can't stand meeting new people!' She put a hand up to her throat as though she were about to choke. 'Now,' she added violently, as she got to her feet, 'you have taken away all my calm, my peace.' She reached the door and called to Marion, who joined her as she rushed from the room, adding, 'Talk to him, Emma.'

Emma stood up, angry and distressed.

'Stay here.' Adam spoke with authority, and got to his feet.

Emma turned on him fiercely, like a mother protecting her child.

'How dare you? How
could
you?' The words shook with fury. 'What has to happen to prove you're so wrong? Well, I hope you're satisfied.' Her eyes blazed as they met his.

His voice was impressive in its calm as he exclaimed, 'I know what I'm doing! If Irene is never challenged she will never escape from this way of life. Her feelings '

Emma exploded as she stood close to him, her gaze filled with something near to hatred as she raised her voice and cried, 'What do you know of
feelings,
suffering? I doubt if you have any emotions!'

The words leapt between them, reverberating like thunder, and before she could utter another word he had leaned forward, his hands gripping her shoulders as he stooped, his lips parting hers in a passionate kiss that robbed her of breath and strength to resist.

He drew back abruptly, his eyes dark, triumphant and challenging.

'Suppose you take that as my answer,' he said roughly, as he strode from her, leaving her shaken and astonished, her mouth burning from his contact and, despite herself, excitement robbing her of speech.

Irene's voice calling Emma broke into the scene. Adam was at the door.

'I will go to her,' he said in the tone of a doctor expecting to be obeyed.

Emma's legs felt that they no longer had the power to support her and she sat down. She had no fight left. And then her mood changed. Wasn't Adam's behaviour typical of her assessment of him? No doubt kissing was part of his technique, and Judy Meyhew also a recipient, his great popularity having its inception in cautious flirtatiousness. She ought to have wrenched herself away, hurled abuse at him for taking a mean advantage. Instead of which she had meekly obeyed him. It was as though he had won a battle.

Marion joined her at that moment.

There was an awkward pause before she said, 'Dr Templar is certainly in command. If anyone can deal with Irene's case——'

Emma let her chaotic feelings give rein to a fierce criticism. 'Irene won't forgive him for this.'

Marion shook her head.

'On the contrary. She was even worried about what he would think of her.' She added, 'Her mood swings have increased. I've noticed that, even today.'

Emma heard Adam's words: 'If Irene is never challenged she will never escape from this way of life.'

'Nevertheless,' Emma insisted, 'I thoroughly disagree with his challenge.'

Marion studied Emma closely and claimed the privilege of friendship to be blatantly honest.

'You resent him in some way, don't you?'

Emma wanted to give vent to her feelings, but said discreetly, 'I question his tactics.'

And at that moment, Adam was studying Irene objectively. The scene with Emma had shaken him, and it was not easy to dismiss its significance from his mind. He was amazed at his own daring and passionate response, inspired by anger as he tried to stress his point of view.

Irene looked forlorn, her attitude tempered with sweet reasonableness as she said in a little 'please forgive me' voice, 'I didn't mean to—to make a scene, but you
know
I can't go out. Even to talk about it makes me feel ill.'

Adam didn't prevaricate. 'And you know, I'm here to change all that. Otherwise I'm no good to you as your doctor.'

At that she burst out, 'But your visits mean everything and sometimes you seem to understand.' She looked at him pleadingly.

'You want your own way, Irene.' His voice was quiet and even solemn.

She cried immediately, 'It isn't
my own way,
but the way the—the accident affected me. Why can't you realise that? Emma does,' she added almost desperately.

'Emma is not your doctor,' he reminded her.

Irene wanted to challenge him. Her mood changed.

'You and Emma disagree about me,' she said with emphatic certainty.

Adam had no intention of discussing Emma and even the sound of her name disturbed him.

'That is not what I'm here to talk about, Irene. My one ambition is to see you walk out of this house and take your place again in the world. The first step could so easily be to my sister's house, with Emma and me. . .' His voice was persuasive; he held her gaze with an almost mesmeric power.

She shrank back in her chair and cried out, 'No!' And again, 'No. You don't realise what agoraphobia is
like.
The terror. . .I'm
ill,
don't you see? Just talking about it.' She rushed on, 'It's like being on a precipice, looking down and petrified you'll fall. . . That front door opening and my going out!' She put her hands up to her face as though confronting some nameless horror and a sob escaped her. 'This isn't the way to make me well,' she cried in a thin, despairing voice.

Adam was firm as he said, 'But you don't want to see' any new faces, Irene. You want your life to be enclosed within these four walls, with just the few familiar people visiting you from time to time. I am your doctor, so I'm privileged '

She cried out, 'You're my doctor—here to help me!'

He said with a touch of irony, 'How can I do that if you tie my hands behind my back and shut your mind against everything I suggest?' He paused and then said significantly, 'Now I'm going to ask you to do something for me.' Even as he spoke he felt as though Emma were standing beside him and he was hoping for her support.

Irene's heart seemed to miss a beat. She was immediately apprehensive.

'What,' she asked falteringly, 'can
I
possibly do for
you?'
She met his intent gaze and gave a little cry, 'Please don't bring up my going out again—
please.'

'It has nothing to do with going out,' he assured her. 'I just want you to meet my sister. Invite her here.'

Irene shrank and then gasped, 'Why?'

'To widen your horizon; to meet someone new who is bright and cheerful, and a sympathetic person who knows the circumstances. It would be a step in the right direction and make me feel that you were making progress.'

Irene hastened, 'There's Emma?'

He answered instinctively and then reminded himself of how Emma had avoided lunching with him and Ruth only that day, as he said, 'Emma will have no objection.' His voice hardened slightly as he thought of her antipathy and the scene they had recently enacted. He held Irene's gaze. 'I'd like to think that we are sufficiently good friends for my sister to be welcome,' he added significantly.

Instantly Irene responded.

'Oh, but of course she would be welcome. It isn't that I don't
like
people, but the thought of strangers makes me lose confidence and I shake, and ' She broke off.

'Nevertheless, may I bring her here one evening, say next Sunday? I'm not on duty then.' He was persistent.

Irene hesitated and then said, 'That would be lovely. . .I know about her, but I forget.'

'She's amicably divorced, thirty-six, and Paul Knight, of whom I spoke earlier to Mrs Foster, wants to marry her. She reverted to her maiden name, by the way. You'll like her. . .she gets on with people and I'm not prejudiced, I assure you.'

Irene shivered.

'You think she'll persuade me to go out.' She looked at him very levelly. 'Agoraphobia hasn't affected my powers of deduction.'

'I'm sure it hasn't,' he said, adding with telling emphasis, 'It isn't a question of
persuading
you to go out, but encouraging '

'I don't want to talk about it. . .I'm all peaceful. . .' She hesitated, because that wasn't true. The thought of Ruth had stirred up all the warring elements and she didn't like the fact that she was committed. But she said, 'You're the only new person I've met since it all happened.' There was a note almost of doom in her voice.

'Then it's fitting that my sister should be the second.'

'There'll only be you and your sister—not Mr Knight?'

Adam shook his head. 'Not Mr Knight. I promise.'